


Lost

by casual_distance



Series: GNK Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Creature Castiel, Dubious Consent, Fantasy, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, implied Castiel/others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casual_distance/pseuds/casual_distance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s lost.  Like, really lost.  He didn’t even know it was possible to be this lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the [Obnoxious Name Generator](http://casualdistance.tumblr.com/post/128267951259/armellin-sassywiinchesters-katara). Cas is a:
> 
>   
> 

Dean was lost. At least, he thought he was lost. He was fairly certain he recognized the clump of trees that was growing off to his left, but he was also fairly certain they didn’t have purple leaves. Dean stared up at them, frowning as he peered through the branches to check- and yup, there was the nailed-on board that was all that remained of his and Sam’s childhood treehouse.

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, turning around in a circle as he took in the neon yellow shrubs with blue flowers, trees with purple, blue, and pink leaves (sometimes all three at once), and the suspiciously green squirrel that ran by chattering loudly at him.

“You look lost.”

Dean gasped at the unexpected voice and spun around to find a man standing beneath a tree with teal colored leaves, completely naked and leaning up against the rough bark. Dean gaped at him, eyes trailing down his body, over a muscled chest, across his flat stomach, lingering at sharp hip bones until the dark trail of hair low on his abdomen drew Dean’s eyes down to his-

Face burning with embarrassment, Dean jerked his eyes up to meet the man’s gaze. The man smirked, blue eyes brightening with amusement, and pushed himself off the tree, sauntering up to Dean. He ran his own gaze over Dean’s body, pink tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lower lip before he bit it, looking back up at Dean through his eyelashes. The heat in Dean’s face both grew worse and left for more southerly climes.

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, yeah. Where am I, man?”

The man came closer, stopping a bare- stopping a _short_ six inches away. He shrugged. “You’re in my home.”

“Okay, one, personal space,” Dean said, taking a step back and refusing to look down, “and two, where is your home exactly?”

“The forest is my home.”

Dean glared. “Yeah, I get that, but _where_ is the forest?”

The man sighed and stepped closer to Dean, reaching out to pluck at the hem of his flannel button down.

“Why are you covering yourself?” he asked instead of answering Dean’s question.

“Because most people don’t want to see a random dude running around naked.”

The man frowned, his eyes roaming over Dean’s body again. He squinted in consideration for a moment before he tugged on the lapels of Dean’s shirt, pulling it down his arms. “You won’t need clothes here. I’d prefer you naked.”

“Okay.” Dean dragged his shirt back up onto his shoulders, forcefully ignoring the man’s comment. “Where is here again?”

The man sighed, a gusty, irritated sound, and rolled his eyes. “I’ve already _told_ you,” he griped as he tugged on the shirt again, managing to get it pulled down to Dean’s wrists.

“Would you cut it out?” Dean growled as he attempted to get his shirt back up his arms.

The man glared at him and held tightly onto the fabric, thwarting his efforts. “I already said I’d prefer you without clothes.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah? And who are you?”

The man perked up, a delighted smile crossing his face. “I’m Castiel, King of the Forest.”

Dean stared.

Castiel used his distraction to pull his flannel shirt off him completely, leaving him in only his Henley. 

“Hey, wait-” Dean reached for the shirt only to watch as it vanished from Castiel’s hand. “Dude, what the fuck? That was my shirt!”

“Clothing is unnecessary, especially as one of my consorts.”

“Whoa!” Dean backed up a few steps, holding his hands up in front of himself between him and Castiel. “Nobody is no one’s consort here. First, I’m not gay.”

Castiel stepped forward, pressing his chest against Dean’s upheld palms. His skin was warm and smooth and Dean found himself spreading his fingers to touch more of it. Castiel ran his hands down Dean’s arm, wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrists and pulled, separating them and stepping into the gap. He twisted Dean’s wrists and pressed Dean’s palms flat to his sides, high up enough that Dean could feel his chest contract and expand with each breath.

Dean swallowed noisily and tried to ignore the way his cock twitched with interest. He _wasn’t gay_.

“What’s gay?” Castiel asked as he released Dean’s wrists and slid his hands back up Dean’s arms to his neck.

“Um-” Dean cleared his throat. “It’s a guy that likes other guys.”

“I like other guys,” Castiel agreed, tracing the skin just inside the collar of Dean’s Henley, causing him to shiver. “You do not like other guys?” Castiel asked, squinting at him slightly. 

Dean shrugged. 

Castiel hummed and stepped a bit closer. Dean’s hands slid around to rest alongside Castiel’s spine. Castiel smoothed his palms over the curve of Dean’s shoulders and then ran a hand down Dean’s chest, head tipping downward to track the movement. Dean also looked down, Castiel’s dark hair brushing his cheek, watching Castiel play with the button of his jeans. Beyond Castiel’s hand, the crotch of his jeans bulged out and Dean felt himself flush with embarrassment again, suddenly aware that he had not taken his hands off Castiel.

Castiel popped the button on his jeans, tugged down the zipper slightly, and then slid his hand in under Dean’s jeans, wrapping it around Dean’s cock as best he could through Dean’s underwear. Dean moaned, eyes closing, fingers digging into the skin of Castiel’s back.

Castiel hummed in response to Dean’s noises, stroking Dean just once before squeezing. “I would say that you do.”

“I- I like girls,” Dean breathed out, hips rocking toward Castiel. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Castiel’s answering erection curving away from his body. Dean licked his lips, unable to pull his eyes away.

“Can you not like both? Many of my people do.”

Dean opened his mouth, but lost what he was going to say when Castiel started stroking him again. He groaned and tightened his arms around Castiel’s body, bringing him in closer and dropping his head to Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel made a pleased noise in Dean’s ear. He pulled his hand out of Dean’s pants, ignoring Dean’s protest. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Dean’s boxers and pushed Dean’s pants and underwear down to his thighs, freeing Dean’s cock.

Dean sighed and then gasped as Castiel pressed his hips up against Dean’s, slotting their cocks together and rolling his hips.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Dean breathed, wrapping an arm around Castiel’s neck and holding on, his body moving counter to Castiel’s thrusts.

Castiel crooned in his ear, murmuring praise as he wiggled his hand between them and wrapped it around both of their cocks. Dean’s breath hitched and he moaned in time with Castiel’s strokes, hands moving restlessly across Castiel’s back and shoulders. He pressed his face into Castiel’s neck as heat spread through his gut, his orgasm building faster than he expected.

Castiel kissed the side of Dean’s head, then teased Dean’s ear with his tongue and teeth. Dean moaned, hips rocking harder. Castiel tightened his grip on their cocks and stroked faster. He wrapped his free arm around Dean’s waist to support him.

“So beautiful, Consort,” Castiel breathed in his ear before he ducked his head down and sucked on Dean’s neck. Dean gasped, head lulling to the side to expose more of his neck. Castiel chuckled against his skin, the rumbling sound and the warm ghost of his breath sending heat down Dean’s spine.

“You should come for me, Consort,” Castiel said and bit down.

Dean shouted as his body obeyed, pleasure rolling through him, muscles tensing as he came over Castiel’s hand, smearing wetly across both their bellies. Castiel’s grip slickened with Dean’s release and then Castiel was groaning into Dean’s ear with his own orgasm. The sound echoed through Dean’s body and he clutched at Castiel, panting heavily.

Castiel chuckled again as let go of their cocks and shifted within Dean’s grasp. Mind still hazy with pleasure, Dean didn’t pay attention to Castiel’s movements until Castiel lifted Dean’s arms up and pulled the Henley over his head, leaving Dean completely bare.

He blinked back to himself, crossing his arms over his stomach.

“What the fuck, man. You can’t just-”

Castiel laid a finger against Dean’s lips, silencing him. “My consorts do not wear clothes,” Castiel said. He reached down and tugged Dean’s arms away from his body, eyes studying Dean closely. “Especially not ones as beautiful as you.”

Embarrassment heated Dean’s face yet again. “Er- thanks- I guess- but I can’t stay here. My brother-”

Castiel hummed over him. “You’ll be able to visit him,” Castiel said dismissively, “but you are mine now and we need to get you settled in, Consort.”

“Dean.”

Castiel looked up at him and smiled. “Dean,” he repeated, sending a pleased shiver down Dean’s spine. He nodded once, took Dean’s hand, and led him further into the forest, clothes long forgotten in the riot of leaves on the forest floor.


End file.
